Monday, December 12, 2011

Self-Destructive Tendencies

Talking to Sister of the Ex confirmed that The Ex had chosen my enemy Brian over me. The feeling I felt cannot be called an emotion (it is overqualified to fit that lowly designation.) I couldn't decide what particularly dominated in the following spectrum of emotions: angry, beaten, betrayed, cheated, denied, disappointed, entitled, outsmarted, rejected, suspicious, underrated, wasted. In short, very bad.

Usually, when something vexes my spirit, I too vex my body with sustained cardiovascular horse-work. The way that works, I get so tired that I have to suspend fretting in favor of surviving.

Swimming usually does it well enough - if I do it hard enough. After a long hard run to the pool (not exactly easy running distance), finding that it was empty of mindless, screaming, splashing, floater-besieged directionless kids was great.

I lost count of the number of laps I did - aware only of "chasing my heartbeat" - trying to make it explode with too much cardio. Unfortunately, mental flashback images of Brian and The Ex smiling together only worked to enrage said heart. I would probably never have stopped, because I was getting ever more worked up and going harder with each successive lap. After a significant while, my breathing became very strenuous. Yet the stockpile of heavy emotions I was attempting to burn like fuel had hardly diminished; it solidified front and center of my brain.

Suddenly, everything below my pelvis all the way to my soles clenched into a most rigid sequence of concurrent muscle pulls. I screamed bubbles, nearly drowned, made it to the side of the pool, hauled myself out and struggled to reorient myself. I don't know how long I lay on the concrete poolside panting for my life and mentally railing at myself for chickening out before completing the mission - I could still feel the emotional whipping I had been trying to swim out of my system.

I started groaning. Loudly.

Someone came, stood over my spread-eagled form such that her shadow interfered with my basking, and said "Are you CRAZY?"

I opened my eyes to the highly unwelcome sight of Jennifer, aka Best Friend of The Ex, also the ex of my best friend. Somehow, at the sight of her, I grew ten times more tired. She was here to gloat or else she never talked to me. She hated me. I was indifferent towards her.

About this blog

The time is at hand! Truth from the heart. Partly online journal, partly social commentary, occasionally going off on political tangents, with a smattering of economic terms. Learning at the Lord's feet, closely watching the final chapters of the Great Controversy.